


i'm giving it all to you (& asking everything in return)

by Hymn



Series: Hymn's Fic: The Mandalorian Collection [7]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A little, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Banter, Bottom Din Djarin, But just a little, Established Relationship, F/M, FUCK, How Do I Tag, Kink Negotiation, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Light BDSM, Nipple Play, Not Quite A Scene, PWP, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slightly Mean Dom Cara, Teasing, Top Cara Dune, Traffic Light System, a little edging too, egging each other on, is a tag i hope to use many many more times, really this is BDSM LITE, sex as stress relief, sort of having fun in the moment, stone!Cara, this is two dweebs being all WE'RE GOING HARD OR GOING HOME and then just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: Cara huffs a tight breath, going to the cabinet. The speeder's helmet gets put atop, the drawer pulled slowly open. Inside Cara has various supplies, an array of toys to choose from. “What are you trying, Din?”“I would have thought it’d be obvious.”“Indulge me,” Cara manages, even though it feels like a struggle to string together coherent words, to function outside of the way her skin feels too tight and limiting. Shewants, but she’s never taken Din like this -- not for her own sake. She has to know.
Relationships: Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Hymn's Fic: The Mandalorian Collection [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561399
Comments: 22
Kudos: 118





	i'm giving it all to you (& asking everything in return)

**Author's Note:**

> hilariously, the sex they have planned at the beginning is definitely the sex i had planned on writing, but that sex sadly most definitely does not happen lmao. but i guess sometimes you just gotta grind out subpar sex to break out of a subpar mood hurr hurr ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ set in the universe of the domestic kink fic i still haven't finished, pretty sure it takes place before (& not demolish it) - title taken from IT HAS BEEN AN ACTUAL HOUR OF TRYING TO FIND THE RIGHT SONG LYRIC HOLY SHIT -_-;;; ok i went to an old favorite, Typhoon's Prosthetic Love even tho that title is way heavier than this fic lmao
> 
> have fun??
> 
> WAIT, **i consider this important** : cara's the dom, but din is deliberately not setting this up as a full scene in order to give cara a release, so she's not exactly on her game during this. that's fine for din and works out for them, but if it's going to stress you out reading about a dom that's not on target all the way through then skip this my friend <3

  
  
  
  
  
Din has spent the entire afternoon watching Cara pace around the cantina, snarling at the locals. Thankfully, the locals are used to Cara so they don’t hold it against her. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally she _does_ get restless and reckless and jittery, and when there aren’t any handy brawls around to soothe the aggression it turns into pacing and twitchiness and snide remarks. 

But Din isn’t used to it, Cara knows. 

Sure, he’s been there a time or two when Cara’s emotions get the better of her. When her past comes nipping at her heels or bad memories wake her, leaving her heart-sore and defensive. That’s different, though, than what moves her now.

So she isn’t upset when Din gets up from the table the two of them _had_ been sitting at earlier, Cara’s half finished plate of cantina fare long gone cold and congealed. She gets it when he leaves without a word to her, pram following obediently at his heels. They might be together, but they’re not _together_ -together, not always. Distance is probably important in a relationship like theirs, and Cara knows she can’t ask too much of Din. Knows that her mood is stupid and pointless even if she can’t shake it, her brain turned into her own worst enemy. 

It isn’t Din’s job to deal with this.

Still, half an hour later Din comes back without the pram, a speeder’s helmet in hand. 

Cara’s near the back of the cantina when he comes in, feeling her muscles bunch with the need to do something, but utterly helpless to give them the outlet. Her head feels too noisy, she’s both too focused and entirely out of it, but the way Din comes to a stop next to Greef’s table catches her attention: straight and solid, but soft, something willing to yield in his posture.

All at once, Cara knows exactly what she wants.

When Din tosses her the helmet, Cara catches it with one hand, hefting the weight of it and considering what, exactly, Din has planned; wondering if it might align with Cara’s thoughts, gone so swiftly and without apology straight to the gutter. 

“Karga,” Din says, without looking away from Cara. “I’m going to borrow your muscle for the night.”

“Fuck, _please_ ,” Greef says. 

\---

They stop at her apartment. Din disarms enough that he’s downright indecent and says: “The child’s in good hands. I packed lube already.”

Cara can see that, considering her supply drawer has been left deliberately ajar. 

On the table, his bracelet sits gleaming.

Cara huffs a tight breath, going to the cabinet. The speeder's helmet gets put atop, the drawer pulled slowly open. Inside Cara has various supplies, an array of toys to choose from. “What are you trying, Din?”

“I would have thought it’d be obvious.”

“Indulge me,” Cara manages, even though it feels like a struggle to string together coherent words, to function outside of the way her skin feels too tight and limiting. She _wants_ , but she’s never taken Din like this -- not for her own sake. She has to know.

“You need a distraction,” Din says, “so grab a cock and let’s go.”

Cara turns around, already shaking her head. “That’s not-- You’ve gotta give me more than that, Mandalorian. I’m not in the right headspace to be gentle, all right? If you let me, I’ll ask for too much. And you’re not--” Cara can’t finish the thought, her tongue far too clumsy, so she just points at the bracelet on the table as if it might be enough to explain.

“I can take it,” Din says.

His arms are folded over his chest, but not challenging. Again, Cara takes note of his posture: steady, sure, but inviting, as if one push is all Cara’d need to tip him over, and he’d go easily, willingly, drawing her down with him. 

Cara groans. “For fuck’s sake, Djarin.”

He laughs. Cara sees it more than hears it, and some of the frustrated tension eases up, especially when he drops his arms and goes over to the table, the angle of his helmet making it clear he’s peering down at the bracelet there. “I don’t want to wear this right now,” he tells her. “But I want to give you what you need, Dune. So we’re getting on your speeder and I’m driving us out to that blind you set up past the lava fields. Get your cock, I’ve got the lube. Any further questions?”

“Yeah,” Cara rasps. “What’re your limits?”

“Don’t get us killed on the way there,” Din says, tone dry. He looks up and nods past Cara, toward the helmet on the cabinet. “I don’t really trust you not to start something along the way, which is why I got that out.”

For a moment, all Cara can do is breathe. 

Then she says, “What if I want too much?” and reaches back into her cabinet, pulling out a cock she’s never used before on Din. It’s too big, ridged mercilessly, and when she holds it out in the air she’s not really being serious, just trying to prove a point. The very weight of it in her hand feels like a threat, and she sees it when Din goes perfectly still, examining it.

“Wow,” he says after a rather significant pause.

“Mm,” Cara agrees.

“That…” 

“Yep,” Cara says.

Slowly, Din comes closer, close enough to reach out and gently grasp Cara’s wrist in his gloved hand, turning hers so that he can examine the length: inches bigger than his favorite, wider all the way through. It’ll hit his prostate like a fucking sledgehammer.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You’re not going to fuck me with this until _after_ I come.”

Cara grins, thin and too vicious. “You know me so well, Djarin.”

It doesn’t matter, of course, that the thought sends a pulse of heat through her. She’s not going to do anything Din doesn’t want; she can’t. Already she has in mind a different cock, something still a little mean but easier to take, that won’t be quite so much to handle. Maybe when she’s not in a mood like this, when Din’s wearing his bracelet, when Cara can stand to be _gentle_ , then they might try it, but--

Din says, “Green.”

Cara sucks in a sharp breath, vision swimming with sudden heat. “You--” she chokes out. “Did you just--”

“Green,” Din says again, his fingers curling around her wrist, like a mimicry of his own bracelet. “Fuck me with that monster cock, Dune. Make me come on it. Take what you need.”

“Are you... Are you sure?”

He leans in close, voice low and warm as he murmurs, “Please. I want you to make a mess of me.”

It just fucking figures that Din Djarin has her number, knows exactly what buttons to press to get her engine overheating. Cara would be appalled, but she’s too busy being turned on. “Sure,” she says, her own voice strangled and rough. “That is absolutely a thing I can do.”

\---

It’s easier, then, to focus, to get done what needs doing. Every movement might be too sharp, Cara’s silence tight and dangerous, but she grabs her pack and empties it before piling it with snacks, spare blankets, a bottle of water. She adds in more lube, a plug, and the chosen cock last, so that they won’t be buried when they arrive.

“Well,” Din says, peeking over her shoulder. “Your priorities are certainly in order.”

Cara pauses right before zipping the pack shut. Leans back on her heels, head tipping to the side to give Din a speculative look. “That’s an attitude,” she says, and the jittery, frustrated energy she’s been plagued with all day gets lazy, but no less sharp. “I think I’d like to do something about that. Right now. Color?”

Din shivers, stepping away. “You’re going to ask me colors again as much as you did at the start, aren’t you?”

“You’re not wearing your bracelet,” Cara says.

“ _You’re_ the one who told me we can combine play and regular sex,” Din fires back, but when Cara just looks at him expectantly he sighs, giving in. “Yes, fine. Green, Cara.”

Cara hums, picking up the plug. A little showily, she spins it around her fingers before deciding that it’s not big enough, so she puts it back into the cabinet and then comes out with one that has a flatter base, something Din might be able to sit down on.

“Oh,” he says.

It also happens to be shorter than the other, but much, much wider. Not as wide as the cock she’ll be fucking him with later, but Din’s smart enough to get the context clues: Cara wants him to wear this on the ride out, and she is _absolutely_ going to edge him with it first.

His hands flex at his sides, some of the steadiness in his shoulders slipping away. Cara lets him look at the plug a moment longer, and then she says: “Prove to me how much you want this, Din.”

Din fidgets some more. “...How?”

“Turn around, face the table. Get your pants down around your knees and lean over.”

He does it, only the slightest hint of hesitation. Din’s never quite so easy as when he doesn’t _need_ it; it’s always when he’s worked himself up to a fervor, all stress and tension and desperation, that he has a hard time asking for it, accepting what Cara can do for him. But like this, Din doesn’t protest, doesn’t make her force him to submit.

In less than a minute, Din Djarin is bare-assed and bent over her table. 

“That good?” he asks, just a hint of tease in his voice.

Cara hums, going over and kicking at one of his boots. “Wider than that, Din. C’mon. _There_ , now isn’t that a pretty view?” 

He huffs, folding his arms on the edge of the table and resting his head there. It slopes his back, which just makes the view even prettier, and Cara hums some more, rubbing the plug dry against his hole, just to tease back. “Yeah, you’re pretty. You know it too, don’t you? Look at this ass,” Cara murmurs, grasping one of his cheeks in her hands, squeezing tight. Din jolts, making a soft muffled sound. “I’m going to make such a _mess_ of this ass.”

“Then get _on_ with it,” Din says, almost laughing.

It makes Cara grin and gives her _ideas_. Letting go of his warm flesh so she can suck her own thumb, she replaces the dry plug with it. But instead of keeping to light, taunting presses, she sinks her thumb straight on in, knowing Din can take it; that he’d _love_ to take it.

“ _Ah_ ,” he gasps, high and sharp. 

Cara leaves her thumb there, enveloped in the warm, tight vise of Din’s ass. It’s a hell of a sight, the way he’s stretched around her. She’s looking forward to stretching his rim even wider; it’s going to look fucking obscene when she fucks him, his rim will be all tight and red and--

“Cara,” he gasps again, “oh fuck, _Cara_ , where’d you go?”

Blinking, Cara focuses back on Din, on the moment here and now where she’s fucking Din on her thumb as far in as it will go. His hips shift, restless as he moves into her motions, chasing after the sensation. 

“Sorry,” she says, leaning down to press a kiss against the base of his spine, just below where his hem is. “You’re very distracting, did you know that?”

Din _definitely_ laughs this time, the sound muffled but genuine. 

Cara pulls her thumb out, takes a moment to enjoy the way Din’s hole twitches, his body clenching up on emptiness. Then she slicks the plug up and rests the tapered head against Din’s body, warning him: “I’m not going to slow down. You can say stop if you want, or please, but I’m not going to listen to you. Color?”

“ _Green_.”

His eagerness is delicious, a heady thing. Cara makes a hungry noise low in her throat and starts working the plug in, determined and ruthless and watching intently the way Din’s body opens up around it. All Din does at first is sigh, bearing down and loosening up, welcoming the intrusion. But halfway down the plug gets noticeably wider, nothing subtle or polite about it, and by the time Cara’s got the whole thing sitting inside him Din’s making little punched out noises and bitten off whines, shaking knees locked tight to keep from squirming away.

“You didn’t tell me to stop,” Cara says, a little breathless. 

Din groans, but lifts his head up enough that she can hear his response clearly: “Wanted to prove… h-how much I want it.”

 _Fuck_.

Cara hisses, reaching down to jostle the base of the plug. Din yelps at the sudden on-and-off again pressure on his prostate, the way something too big is inside of him and moving around, Cara refusing to let him acclimatize. “You’re fucking perfect,” Cara tells him. “So fucking good for me.”

“Please,” Din finally gasps. “Let me-- _fuck_ , oh! Let me be good for you, Cara, let me--”

She’s not going to survive Din talking like that, so Cara pulls the plug back out and fucks it back in, hard enough that his breath hitches, words gone to nonsense syllables. 

\---

Din doesn’t stand a chance. 

As much as he’s been deliberately feeding her desire, saying such perfect things in such an amazingly needy way, Cara knows how to play him just as well. Draping her body against his, Cara wedges her thigh up against his ass so that Din can work the plug around himself, grinding the base back against her. She’s heavy like this, she knows, but Din loves the weight, the feeling of being pinned down. He moans, and Cara wraps both arms around his waist for a gentle squeeze before sliding her hands up the front of his body, beneath his clothing.

“ _Cara_ ,” he says, tone a desperate warning.

“Hm?” Cara asks, aiming for innocence but only managing to come across as smug. “Something wrong, Din?”

“Cara, you-- you--”

Cara’s fingers find his nipples. One pinch and Din’s whole body tightens up, shivering. “So fucking _sensitive_ ,” Cara says, feeling reverent. Draped over him like this, Din forced to hold up both their weight, Cara can feel every twitch and buck of Din’s body, eager and desperate for touch, for more pleasure. She keeps pinching, knowing exactly what’ll happen.

“ _Close_ ,” Din chokes out, whole body vibrating beneath her. 

He isn’t even grinding back against her thigh anymore, though Cara can feel it as he clenches desperately around the intrusion of the plug. 

Cara lets go immediately, pulling her hands away and stepping back. She gets her fingers on the base of the plug and draws it slowly out, Din’s body not wanting to give it up. He whines a little brokenly, helmeted head thunking down hard against the table. His bracelet rattles at the impact. Cara looks at it, humming, and then looks down at Din’s ass.

His rim won’t close up all the way, even as he squeezes down reflexively on nothing, trying to tighten up. It’s such a damned gorgeous sight that Cara has to put the plug carefully on the table so that she can get her hands back on him. 

“Very nice,” Cara praises, and slips him her thumb to clench around. 

“That’s not fucking _enough_ ,” Din complains, even as he presses back against against her hand. Cara just laughs, hooking her thumb down and pulling so it opens Din up even more. He makes a strangled noise, and then manages to say: “Fuck, you’re really going for it tonight.”

Cara knows what he means; usually she just gentles him a little, still teasing, whenever she edges him. Lets him pull back from the precipice slowly, but not too far. She’s in the mood to be mean, though, so she just says, “Guess I am. Color?”

“Seriously?”

Cara folds her spare fingers along Din’s perineum, pressing tight. He makes a shocked little noise and Cara says, “Color, Din.”

He’s so hard that he’s actually dripping on the floor, which is probably why Din sounds tetchy and incredulous when he says, “Still fucking green, Cara.” 

All Cara can do is grin, delighted that she’s worked him up so much that his good boy act has fallen apart already, forgotten in the face of his own arousal and the denial of his orgasm. She wants to strip him down even more, reveal the truth of him; wants him twitching and writhing and greedy as fuck, hungry for everything and anything she’ll give him. 

It’s not a new feeling, that want. But it is a hunger that’s only worsened, it seems, since she and Din started this whole arrangement. 

In her defense, Din Djarin gives it up fucking _beautifully_.

Cara wants to give him everything.

With one hand, she carefully reaches back under his clothes to find his nipple; he curses, but arches his back to give her better access. “Hm,” she murmurs, tugging at nipple and rim simultaneously. “Let’s see if I can’t fuck you back into sweetness. Say ‘please,’ Din.”

“Make me,” he says, breath hitching.

So Cara slips two fingers into his ass and stretches all of them at once. Din makes a noise like he’s been wounded, hot and wretched and wanting, and Cara just holds him open like that, pinching at his nipple until Din’s whining: “Not enough, not _enough_ , I’m too empty, Cara, _please_.”

“Good,” she tells him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Tell me what you need.”

“C’mon, c’mon,” he begs, wanton and willing. “Let me be good, let me show you-- oh, _oh_ , how much I want to be full, I want-- I want you to fuck me, C-Cara, ah _ah_ , please!”

Cara pulls her fingers free, reaching for the plug. 

\---

The next time Din gets close she doesn’t take the plug out, just moves her fingers away from his nipples and her thigh out of range. 

Din’s left humping empty air and making cracked open noises of frustration, gloved hands slipping along the edge of the table. His thighs are shaking. He’s damp with sweat and breathing hard. Cara kneels down behind him, grabs at the globes of his ass with her hands and starts squeezing. 

“That plug looks so good in you,” she says, and as broken open as Din’s voice is, Cara’s shadows it, gone rough and thick. “I should make you wear one all the time. Just put one in you as soon as you wake up, Din, leave it there so I can play with you whenever I want.”

He shudders, moaning long and low. 

Cara bites his ass hard enough to leave a mark, then taps at the base of the plug with three fingers, strong enough to rock it inside him. He grunts, back arching, gasping out: “Green, oh fucking-- again, Cara, do that again!”

She does.

Again and again she pops her fingers down against the plug’s base, jolting it against his prostate until Din’s close again, cock leaking and body straining, the noises squeezing out his throat gone wild and wet, needy as fuck. She thinks about edging him properly, taking her time and getting him so worked up he’s beside himself with it, cursing and beautiful and shaking he’s so damned frustrated. She thinks about delaying his orgasm and making him drive a speeder with the plug still in, just so that she can jerk him off on the way and then fuck him stupid at the end of it.

But…

Just the fact that he’s willing, that he might want to give her that, is enough for now. 

Cara breathes out slowly, replaces her fingers for her thigh, and gets one hand on Din’s neglected cock. It’s hot under her palm, skin soft but damp. He chokes, and Cara jerks him back hard against her thigh right on an upstroke, and then he’s fucking _shouting_. The sound if it rings in Cara’s ears, sets her heart pounding and heat shivering all through her body. 

“ _Cara_ ,” he whimpers, and Cara gets it together enough to rasp back, “It’s all right. You’re so good, Din, that’s exactly what I wanted,” so Din knows that he didn’t make a mistake, that he did precisely what Cara asked. Cara keeps working his cock, and Din shakes and moans, just hanging on as the orgasm finishes working its way through him, made even more intense by the way he keeps clenching up on the plug, pressing it against his prostate. 

Fuck, it’s good. _He’s_ good, and Cara makes a soft, hungry noise as Din comes all over her hand, gasping for air, scrabbling at the edge of the table. Shocked and unprepared for the sudden release. Cara fucking _burns_ to hear the noises he makes, to feel the sweet little shudders and twitches of oversensitivity. He’s boneless beneath her, knees barely holding him up. 

So fucking _sweet_ for her.

“How long can I leave the plug in?” Cara asks, tone thoughtful.

Din shakes some more, but this time from laughter.

Of course, that just gets him cursing and shivering as the laughter jostles the plug inside him, still rubbing against his prostate, and Cara--

Fuck, but she’s tempted to wring another orgasm out of him.

Instead, she carefully works the plug out, pressing kisses against Din’s ass, his thighs, right over his sloppy, lube-slick hole. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, and Din hums agreement, loose-limbed and easy. Slowly, gingerly, they come down from the high together. 

\---

They’re in bed a hot, luxurious shower later, Cara on her back and Din beside her on his belly, both of them stripped down somewhat for sleep. Din’s head is turned, visor angled towards her, and Cara’s running her hand gently up his shoulder. “You okay?” he asks, voice quiet and serene.

Cara can’t help but feel that she’s the one who should be asking that; but it’s not quite true. Din’s bracelet still sits on the table like a statement, an offer for him to take care of her this time around. “Yeah,” she gets out, voice a bit too gruff and stilted. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m okay. Better than before, my head…”

“A little quieter in there?” 

“Yeah,” Cara laughs. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks. Are _you_ okay?”

Din leans up a little higher on his forearms, looking down at her. “I’m fucking _great_ ,” he says, faux solemnly. “I didn’t even have to risk life and limb on a speeder while you felt me up.”

Laughing even more, Cara rolls over so she can get her arms and legs wrapped around Din’s body. He grunts, getting the wind knocked out of him a little while they tussle in the bed, their clothes getting rumpled. Cara says, “We should definitely schedule an actual scene some time to do all the rest. Now that I know it’s an option, I _have_ to get my monster cock up your ass, Djarin. It needs to happen.”

He huffs, but says: “If you think we can fit it in…”

Cara fucking _wheezes_.

“...then I’m sure something can be arranged,” Din finishes, sounding satisfied.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
>  **edit** : lord fuck this needs an edit but THAT IS FOR ANOTHER DAY sorry gentle readers <3


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